


Almost

by AnnaofAza



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 12:34:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5127797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaofAza/pseuds/AnnaofAza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The twenty-four hours do not go as Eggsy hoped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Almost

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on [ my tumblr.](http://annaofaza.tumblr.com/post/129538229268/eggsy-thinks-they'll-get-sloshed-from-the)

Eggsy thinks they’ll get sloshed from the martinis, and things will go from there, but Harry can hold his liquor better than Eggsy anticipated and refuses to make more because “we wouldn’t want to have incessant hangovers tomorrow.”

But they do lazily sit on the couch and talk about small things. They exchange stories of school and overcompensating pricks and favorite films. Harry reveals that his mother is not alive, but his father is, and thinks his son is a well-to-do tailor and keeps calling him to settle down at “his age.” Eggsy talks about leaving the Marines when he found out his mum was pregnant with Daisy, how he’d prayed that Dean wouldn’t hit her and make his mum lose the baby, how he’d first held his little sister in his arms while Dean was off drunk at the Black Prince. “I promised her I’d take care of her, same as my mum,” he declares.

“You’re a good man,” Harry replies, and touches his arm. They’re very close, now, Harry’s glasses nearly touching Eggsy’s face. The alcohol and the close proximity makes the room light and warm and lovely, and Harry’s eyes are softer than Eggsy has ever seen.

Eggsy wants to lean in closer and kiss the gin off of Harry’s lips, test to see if it’ll taste the same as licking it off his own. But what if? What if it’s against the rules, and Eggsy can lose his candidacy? But what if it isn’t? What if Harry pulls away then?

He doesn’t dare to say anything and snap the moment in two, but every part of Eggsy pleads for him to tell Harry. Tell him what he’s begun to realize since that explosion put Harry in a coma. Tell him what Roxy’s been gently teasing him about for these months. Tell him what he’d thought, looking at the beautiful mark they were supposed to seduce and wishing it were someone else.

Eggsy realizes that he’s leaning in, lips parted, fingers reaching out to cup Harry’s cheek—

Then Harry places one firm hand on his shoulder. “Eggsy,” he gently says. “You’re drunk. Do you wish to retire for the night?”

“No,” Eggsy protests, voice louder than he thinks. Maybe the martinis are getting to him. “I might be a little buzzed, but I know what I want. What I’ve been wanting. For a while.”

It’s hard to tell what Harry’s thinking. His hand is still preventing Eggsy from moving forward, but he hasn’t pushed him away. “Eggsy…”

“Stop saying it like tha’! Harry, I…”

“Don’t.” Harry says, but not unkindly. “Don’t. I have no idea if you’re in your right mind and will say or do something you may regret later. A gentleman does not take advantage.”

His words replay in Eggsy’s head, slowly, before Eggsy manages to find his voice again: “But you want to?”

Harry sighs. “Tell you what. Sleep this off. And if you feel the same way tomorrow, we can talk.” He frowns thoughtfully, still gripping Eggsy’s shoulder. “You must know that we can’t actually…start anything, until you become Lancelot. Arthur can accuse me of favoritism, that I’ve been giving you tips or the like throughout training. Which is untrue, of course—you made it this far on your own merit—”

“ _Harry_ ,” Eggsy interrupts loudly. “Shut up. I want to sleep. And wake up. And tell you the same thing I’ve been trying to tell you this whole time.”

Harry smiles, and stands up without a wobble, holding out a helping hand. “Then should you go to bed just now? I prepared a room for you.”

“Tomorrow, there won’t be any separate rooms,” Eggsy mutters, stumbling and snatching twice at Harry’s outstretched palm before his fingers curl around Harry’s wrist.

 _Tomorrow, I pass the test,_  he thinks, as Harry begins to lead him downstairs, _and get to be with you._


End file.
